Howl's Chamber
by misa los domingos
Summary: A/N: The repost. I will never take it down again! Thank you for the dozens of comments and 30 favorites! Please enjoy again! Summary: Sophie and Howl fall in love in the chambers of the castle and the heart. Rated T for Howl's sexiness :)


**Disclaimer:** Howl's Moving Castle is Hayao Miyazaki's castle. I just made a jewel I thought would fit nicely somewhere on it :)

The Greek says, "Sophia," (which translates to "wisdom").

**A/N:** It's back, and I thank the dozens of reviews and the 30+ favorites! I can't apologize enough for having it taken down for so long. It's good to have it back up, it's one of my favorite pieces. Please enjoy it again! And I promise I won't ever take it down.

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The first time I ever entered Howl's bedroom, after the first of many emotional charades we'd encounter, I knew Howl's heart was hidden in the castle. Perhaps I couldn't explain or understand it, but I knew. That chamber- dark but glimmering with ancient stars, trinkets, charms and knick-knacks- breathed with Howl's boyhood and wished with his pure and secret heart.

Then I dreamed, while still cursed as an older version of myself, that I'd entered a second time to find the chamber transformed into a beast's cave. Those same magical toys poked out of tunneled earthen walls. A broken monster curled in on itself in the very interior. Blood and feathers, a weeping, repulsive angel.

Whether in my dream or not, a broken man or monster, Howl hid there. It was Howl's interior world. Secrets swirled through bruised and tender arteries, weeping for a heart to circulate Howl's soul's life.

There Howl still hides at times. It is where Howl's redeemed heart- now beating safely in his chest rather than buried in Calcifer- manifests most. It is safe in there. The bedroom's laced in magic.

I never entered again until my and Howl's wedding night. I remember: he clung to me when the doors closed, whispering promises, little tender nonsenses meaning the world. I'll never repeat them. My own heart wouldn't allow it. My heart shattered when he called, finally, my name: "Sophie," and a declaration of love in a rough, provocative voice. Rocking me, riding me, filling me like only Howl, so magical and mysterious, could. Savant. Conjurer, doctor and student of (and servant to) the Laws of the Universe. He fulfilled me then. I clung and cried as my heart's dust settled into all crevice of the bedroom chamber. Howl mouthed the space under my jawbone and poured himself into me.

Then I wasn't. I was magic, conducting my way through the collected instruments. Objects whirred, pendulums swung, gongs resounded. Electricity and matter. I became the mystery and the answer, journey and fulfillment, and history, present, future, and became Howl himself, heart on fire. Blue angel. Burning, flaming heart. Howl, inside me, upon me. Howl. Howl.

"Oh. Sophie."

Then Howl spoke secrets only a magician would know- Laws and Formulas and Wisdom- into my ear. They were honied, pleasing and enthralling. Breathlessly, he ceased speaking, ending on the note of worship. His voice broke and his tears fell into my mouth. I promised him devotion forever. He swore fidelity and collected my heart's dust back together with tiny, reverent kisses. Moments passed and the kisses grew. He was still inside me, and I felt him swell. An ecstatic moan escaped me and, hungrily, I pulled him closer in my arms and deeper within me. It was an impulsive, wildish little motion echoing my personality when I'd been a brazen old biddy. Howl gasped at first then laughed throatily, tasting my flesh, and rasping, "that's my girl," tightening his embrace. I had enough time to sigh in reminiscence before he kissed me again and rocked his hips, eliciting a cry of joy from my throat.

I wouldn't have been able to stop us then or control the magic, had I wanted. Howl's love was so thorough. My heart claimed the bedroom chamber as its own- to sing forever of my place in Howl's arms as his wife. Surely Howl could claim any chamber in my body and soul he desired; I'd give him my cells to inhabit, so long as his magic could lodge in me.

So, all night Howl's actual Moving Castle roamed the skies, fired by Calcifer, while I claimed the castle of Howl's heart. In the morning, our family greeted us normally, except for the Witch of the Waste, who snickered a sweet little snicker at breakfast and looked at me, woman to woman. Markl asked, innocently as a lamb, why his bedroom lights had flickered a few times during the night, waking him. Calcifer "huh'ed" grumpily, with an overtone of affection and Howl and I blushed lightly.

We Moved thus, softly, gently.

I share this bedroom with Howl, though there are mysteries within it I still don't comprehend (surely, there's mysteries within me Howl doesn't understand, though he reaches in so often). I love this chamber. She reminds me of myself; she's taught me about the Universe and Howl. She's taught me about love. Within her, Howl and I have created wonders beyond our control.

Does this make me a witch as well?

σοφία  
Wisdom.  
_Sophie._

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**/end**


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